


Wanderers

by CoffeeCats



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: also i really uh... did not proofread this so. sorry for any mess, and she happened to have a chance meeting with a strange little knight, i really just wanted to explore my wandering bug Trifle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-24 19:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeCats/pseuds/CoffeeCats
Summary: A collection of vignettes centered on Trifle's encounters throughout Hallownest.





	1. Trifle, meet Ghost

Scents carried far in the humid air of... wherever she currently was, and it took Trifle considerably longer to find the source of the wonderful stench than she expected. A bit of gliding over bright pools of acid, a bit of delicate perching on the backs of massive lumbering bugs, and a bit of careful climbing up and over needle-sharp brambles had gotten her to her current treasure trove. A pile of golden, slimy eggs sat untouched near the front of the little nook at the roof of the grotto. What they were or where they came from she had no idea, but they were filling and delicious and could be packed away for later if you didn’t mind a bit of mess. 

Tucked into a back corner, looking for all the world like they'd just fallen asleep, was the surprisingly desiccated husk of some long-dead wanderer. It wasn't the first one she'd found, but it did make her wonder if there were more dead in this kingdom of legend than there were living souls. Another thought sparked and she briefly wondered if one day some other intrepid fool would find her and her journals in some forgotten corner somewhere. She chuckled at the thought of her own mortality. It was likely, with how she lived, but she had no plans to die today or the next day or the next. There was still more to see in this world and she intended to explore as much of it as she could. 

Quick and quiet respects were given to the shell in the corner before she picked through what was left of their belongings. Most of it had fallen to pieces, victim of the acrid air and the simple passage of time, but most of their journal was still intact. She couldn't read anything it said, but she appreciated the look of the writing regardless. 

Tucking her legs underneath her, she settled down into the mess of moss and brambles as best she could. Might as well take advantage of this cozy nook and update her own journal... maybe copy some of this wanderer's writings into her own book. She spread their journal on the ground in front of her, propped her own up on one knee, and fished one of the eggs out of the pile. 

The quiet scratching of her pen blended into the background noise of the hiss of the acid pools and the distant drone of the lumbering fliers as she let her mind wander as she scrawled across the page with her own shorthand and the carefully mimicked script of the ancient journal. 

What were her brothers up to now? Had they settled down or had they all scattered to the wind on their own adventures as soon as their wings could hold them up? Certainly her parents were disappointed... or worried... or thought she'd died somewhere along the way. She knew they hadn't wanted her to set off on some aimless adventure, but you couldn't fill a child's head with legends and dreams of a mighty, far-off kingdom full of mighty, noble bugs, and expect them to never try to visit.  

Though when she considered her own wings she suspected that's exactly what they thought... 

She couldn't fault them for it, but she also couldn't have possibly stayed home for her entire life, wings or no wings. Maybe if she found a city she could send a letter and a souvenir back home. 

Something hit her knee with a quiet splat and she realized the egg had been oozing down her arm completely unnoticed. She popped the last bite into her mouth and licked her claws clean. The rest of it she wiped off onto her cloaks – they needed to be washed and repaired later anyway. 

In the distance there was an echo of some new sound. A single sharp clang followed by a new quiet whooshing and then silence again. 

Trifle frowned and crept forward to look out of the nook only to yelp and lurch backwards as something leapt up into the nook with her.  

They were small – tiny even – and Trifle thought they might have been equally surprised if only for how they stiffened as they landed. A beat passed and then another as the two looked at each other, neither wanting to be the first to move. Trifle thought the tiny bug might have been nothing more than a wayward child if not for the deadly-looking nail on their back. Was Hallownest a kingdom patrolled by children? 

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um. Hello." 

Their head tilted minutely as they continued to stare at her with their upsettingly inscrutable gaze and blank mask. She settled back down, back legs tucking up beneath her, front legs folding delicately in front, claws tapping together as she tried to think of something to say that might get this little creature to stop staring directly at her. 

"I hope, uh, these weren't your eggs?" No response from the little bug. "Or did you... want one? I have more." 

She dug another egg out of her pack and offered it to them. The tilt of their head changed ever so slightly as their attention shifted to the egg before they shook their head twice. 

"Oh... ok." 

They looked around the little nook, gaze landing on the bug in the corner and the pile of journals on the floor. A single tiny hand pointed at the journals as the blank mask turned back to her. 

"Do you... want to see them? I'm not sure you'll be able to read my scribbles, but you can look if you want." 

The little head shook again and they pointed at the dead wanderer's journal again. 

"Do you want it?" 

A single nod. 

"Well... it's not mine to block you from, but could I finish taking notes from it first?" 

The head tilt, the blank stare, and again a single nod. They carefully stepped across the nook and sat down just across the journals from her, looking at something or perhaps at nothing.  

Trifle picked her pen back up and went back to hastily scrawling notes and copying shapes as best she could. After a couple minutes a rustle caught her attention and she glanced up to see the tiny bug making its own notes on a large sheet covered in lines and names. 

"Is that a map?" She asked, hopeful. To have a look at a map of the area... 

They nodded and she felt a buzz of excitement. 

"May I see? I've never been here before and having an idea of where I'm going would be immensely helpful!" 

A pause and then a rustle as they spread the map on the ground so she could see. It looked incomplete (perhaps they were an explorer as well?) but it showed routes for travel and places for rest and trade and markers for what appeared to be a large city.  

"Oh wow," she whispered as she saw it all. She felt like she might be vibrating with excitement as she flipped to a new page of her own journal and started sketching out parts of the map in front of her. 

They waited, eternally patient (or perhaps invisibly impatient) as she finished her sketch before they folded their map up and tucked it into their cloak somewhere. They looked at the journal and back at her and she waved her pen toward it. 

"I've gotten everything I think I'm going to from that." 

Tiny hands grabbed it up and it too disappeared into their cloak. Without fanfare or any sort of acknowledgement they went back to the entrance to the nook. They looked down, paused, looked back at her. 

Trifle tilted her head, completely unable to decipher what they might be thinking or wanting.  

"Safe travels, my nameless friend. Maybe we'll see each other again somewhere." 

They hesitated a moment longer before jumping out of the nook, disappearing with the same quiet whoosh they'd arrived with.  

Trifle watched them go before turning back to her new map, wondering where she should go next, now that she knew where things were. Dirtmouth looked to be the closest, but the City of Tears sounded like the kind of noble city she'd dreamed of seeing. Perhaps she'd visit the little village first – there might be more maps and a chance to clean up before visiting a proper city.  

Renewed excitement buzzed through her as she packed up her gear and shook out the wings of her cloak, preparing for the glide out of the nook and see what Hallownest had to offer.


	2. Trifle, meet Bash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trifle runs into another strange little bug and ends up with a travel companion.

Trifle blinked. It was the only movement she felt comfortable making near the tiny creature she’d quite literally stumbled upon. Her shins still stung from where it had let her know what it thought of her misstep. At first, she thought it was the nameless wanderer again, but the cloak and horns and attitude quickly proved otherwise. 

Now she was cornered under a small overhang.  

Were it just a normal bug that barely came up to her shin, she would’ve simply leapt over them and been done with it. This creature, with its unsettling stillness and black smoke hissing free from one side of its head, she suspected was anything but a normal bug. 

How long had they been standing here, anyway? Trifle had no idea. Time could’ve stopped moving and they both could be statues now for all she knew. Maybe this is why she’d met no other talking bugs – a plague of tiny, wandering, smoky bug-mimics roamed free turning hapless passersby into statues. 

Slowly… so painfully slowly… she spread her hands into what she hoped was a non-threatening gesture. 

“I’m not going to fight you." 

The creature tensed. She tensed. 

It lunged and she leapt, grateful for the first time for all the times she and her brothers had tried to get the jump on one another. 

Getting out from under the low-hanging thorns (and being several times taller than the little monster) made it much easier to stay out of reach. It would lunge and dash and swipe and she would jump and dance and turn out of the way. 

Three swipes… four swipes…  It tried to dash around instead of head-on and she spun on one foreleg to land facing its back. Before she had a chance to think she reached down, grabbed its foot and picked it up. Its dusty purple cloak flipped down, covering its face, so it took blind swipes at her, trying to kick free with its other foot. 

Trifle tried to conjure the most authoritative, adult voice she could. "I said  _no_." 

One more kick connected with her wrist before it gave up and dangled limply from her hand. Something about it felt more like the petulant irritation she was familiar with from her childhood, rather than defeat or injury. She took a deep breath, settling her nerves. 

"I’m going to put you down, and you are going to behave,” she said, again trying to sound like an authoritative parent rather than the rattled wanderer she was. 

Very carefully, she put it down – head-first, then letting it flop onto its back as she let go of the foot. A beat passed before it angrily flipped its cloak down away from its face. The vacant eye-sockets were impossible to parse, but Trifle felt like a hateful glare was coming from them regardless. 

“Now,” she said, taking a step back, “let’s try this like normal bugs. My name is Trifle." 

No reaction. 

"Do you have a name?" 

No reaction. 

"Do you understand what I’m saying?" 

Nothing. 

She sighed, pressing the back of her hand into her forehead. Was all of Hallownest going to be so incomprehensible? At least the other one had done  _something_. Her hand dropped, the creature stood back up, and they were back to a staring contest. 

"Look, let’s just… go our separate ways, no harm done.” Aside from some bruised shins, at least. 

It, predictably, didn’t respond, which Trifle decided to interpret as silent agreement. Before it could change its mind, she jumped up, latched onto the dense tangle of thorny vines and scrambled her way up to the top of the ledge. Pausing at the top, she glanced back down. The little monster was still there, staring up at her. It gave one tiny stomp – the only thing she’d seen it to outside of trying to hit her, and the only thing that came anywhere close to it trying to get something across to her. She opened her mouth to say something and clicked it closed as she took in the surrounding area from her new vantage point.  

Where they had been, and where the little creature still was, was something of a valley. A hollow lined with thorns and ringed with acid where the only way out was up and over the unfriendly walls. 

Trifle looked back down, locking eyes with those vacant, hissing holes. “You’re stuck, aren’t you?" 

A beat passed and the little one looked away. Trifle imagined it was not happy to have been defeated by plants. 

She could just leave. There was no telling if the little creature was benign or if it would wreak holy terror as soon as it was released from its thorny prison. Certainly no one would fault her for leaving after it tried to fight her (assuming there was anyone around to do the faulting).  

A troubled groan escaped her as she drug both hands down her face, casting her gaze upwards and wondering, not for the first time, if deciding to come to this underground kingdom was a huge mistake. 

She could just leave. She  _should_  just leave. But she couldn’t. She knew what it felt like to be trapped somewhere and she couldn’t in good conscience abandon someone to that fate. 

"Do  _not_  attack me,” she said, pointing down at the little creature. 

One small leap and the sharp crack of her cloak snapping firm to slow her descent later and she was back in the hollow. The little creature didn’t move from its spot, simply standing where it had been, staring at her as it always did. She closed the gap, watching for any sign it was about to take a swing at her again. It didn’t, and she folded her legs beneath her to be a more reasonable height, loosening the straps of her pack as she did so that it sat lower on her back. 

“I’m trusting you not to stab me in the head,” she said, poking it with a finger. It swatted at the offending digit, but scrambled up onto her pack without any other fuss. She felt the incredibly tiny hands latch onto her cloak and stood up, once again launching herself up and over the wall. 

Once at the top she again dropped to her knees, expecting the little creature to hop down and disappear into the brush. 

It didn’t. 

She peered at it over her shoulder and its mask angled to meet her gaze. 

“You know you can go now." 

Still it stayed. One tiny hand poked her in the back and she frowned, confused. It poked her again, twice this time. 

"Or you can stay, I guess?" 

Tiny feet kicked her as it made itself more comfortable on its makeshift seat. Trifle sighed and stood, trying to remember which path she’d wanted to follow. 

"If you’re going to stick around you’re going to need a name, unless you want me to call you Little Monster." 

A small kick. She took that as a no. 

"Alright. What about…. Kicker?" 

Another kick. An apt name, but apparently the wrong one. 

"Thumper?" 

Another kick. 

Trifle was certain she was going to be sore by the time she guessed correctly or it simply gave up kicking her.


	3. Trifle, meet Hornet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trifle finally meets a bug that can talk, and learns a few things about Hallownest.

Coming to Hallownest had taught Trifle a lot of things she never thought she’d learn.

For example, that such a notable kingdom could exist with so few proper roads. And that ceilings could consistently be so short. And that there existed silent bugs-that-weren’t-bugs who served some unfathomable purpose. And how to pack up gooey eggs without making a mess. And what staring down the business end of a needle-sharp nail would feel like.

In her right hand – Bash, who she’d snatched up out of the middle of this fight. The little creature dangled from where Trifle’s hand was balled up in her cloak, holding her out of range.

In front of her – a taller bug, robed in crimson. Trifle was grateful this new bug hadn’t turned from trying to skewer Bash to trying to skewer her, but she wished the nail would point somewhere else.

Silence reigned, save for the thunder of her own heartbeat.

“Drop the vessel.” It wasn’t a request.

A dozen different scenarios all played out in Trifle’s mind, all ending poorly. Maybe her parents had been right to call her a fool for wanting to go on such an adventure. It was a shame she’d never found somewhere to send them a letter.

“No,” she said, startled by her own flat refusal.

Bash wriggled indignantly, drawing the other bug’s attention. Trifle moved the little creature – the “vessel” she supposed – behind her back. The nail’s point dropped to the dirt as the other bug gave a disgusted huff.

“You don’t know what that is or what it could do, do you?”

Trifle narrowed her eyes with a haughty sniff. It was true, she had absolutely no idea what Bash was (although she now thought her suspicion of “bug-that-isn’t-a-bug” was correct).

“She’s my… uh… guide. Guard. Guide and guard.”

So she was a fool  _and_  a liar.

“Your guide.” The other bug did not sound convinced.

“Yes. Who I hired. Here. After my other retainers were… eaten.”

“Eaten.”

“By a bird.”

Bash took advantage of being close to a solid surface (Trifle’s own body) and managed to use her newfound footing to wriggle free. Self-preservation was clearly lacking in her head as she dropped off the other side of Trifle’s back and started to charge forward again.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Bash gained momentum, the other bug dropped into a ready stance, her nail flung out to one side, and Trifle stomped down with one foreleg, hoping her aim was true. Fabric pulled taut under her foot and she knew she’d hit her mark. Bash hit the ground with a soft thump, tripped by their now-pinned cloak tail. Quiet sounds of scuffling came from the ground as she tried, fruitlessly, to kick the crimson-clad bug. Trifle cleared her throat, trying to draw attention away from the furious vessel and back to her. Because clearly she was going to be much more capable of surviving the nail if it came their way.

“Look, uh… friend—”

“Hornet.”

“Hornet. If you’re willing to explain, I would be happy to learn about this so far unfathomable kingdom of yours and what exactly a “vessel” is and why you want to skewer Bash. Aside from the horrible manners, I suppose.”

A look that could have been mild surprise crossed Hornet’s face and Trifle continued, “If you’re going to insist on murder I… well I can’t exactly  _stop_  you, but I would really rather you didn’t.”

Hornet pinned Trifle with a curious look. “You named it, and called it “her.””

“She chose both.”

“Vessels don’t talk.”

“It took a lot of trial and error.” Her back still ached from the repeated kicking.

Hornet again pinned her with a quizzical look. “Why are you here?”

“Curiosity, I suppose,” Trifle said, with a small shrug. “Time twisted fact into tale into legend and I wanted to see what was true.”

“You should leave this kingdom.”

“You’re probably right.”

Hornet blinked at her, sighed, and drove her nail into the dirt. “Fine. I will tell you what I can. Maybe it will keep you from death or worse if you still refuse to leave.”

“Thank you,” Trifle said to Hornet, before looking down at Bash. “ _You_  are going to behave while we hear this tale.”


End file.
